


Change

by EuleVix



Series: Sheep in Wolf's Clothing [2]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Episode: e049 Old Oak Doors Part B, F/F, Post-Episode: e049 Old Oak Doors Part B
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1878678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EuleVix/pseuds/EuleVix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She hadn’t even wanted to go back to Desert Bluffs, but those children had chased her. Across the Desert, across the sand wastes, and true to their words they had ran her all the way back to Desert Bluffs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change

**Author's Note:**

> ....I woke up and this was here. So i typed it.
> 
> I feel that there might be more coming and I have NO idea what it will be so. I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> If you wanna come and follow me on tumblr, say hi, or see the things I post come find me on tumblr!!
> 
> rileywrit.tumblr.com

She hadn’t even wanted to go back to Desert Bluffs, but those _children_ had chased her. Across the Desert, across the sand wastes, and true to their words they had ran her all the way back to Desert Bluffs.

 

She used everything at her disposal, she delegated all that was left towards Night Vale. It was as the last remaining, already half broken, yellow helicopter left the landing pad that she saw on the horizon the remnants of her army; broken, damaged, and _running_.

 

The next hour consisted of yelling, so much gross yelling, as she demanded and pleaded and threatened the mechanical office workers. But they were not human, they were not bio-machines, they had no pride nor cares if Desert Bluffs fell; if Strex fell. They refused to go back, the odds of winning too low to allow authorization; it was un-productive.

 

Then there was Kevin.

 

They had informed her, let her listen to the recordings. At the end of it all there was a large pile of newly decommissioned workers, and it kept growing and growing. The body count only stopped when she became exhausted; she wasn’t sure if it was from the physical exertion or that her tears and emotional strain has zapped everything from her.

 

She then said something she never thought she would say. She told them all to go home, that there was no work to be done. Then she walked aimlessly, somewhere, it didn’t matter anymore.

 

[+]-----[+]

 

The ding of the elevator let her know she had just reached her office. She wasn’t sure how long it had been, how or when she had decided to go to her office, but it seemed that it was soon becoming her last and only safe-haven.

 

But even then, she knew it was a lie. It wasn’t _her_ office anymore. It was that _Angel’s_ office now. She sat in her, _his_ , chair at the desk and relaxed into the cushioned and plush swivel chair one last time.  

 

She started to laugh. It was a broken creak of a laugh, as though she was using her own tears to try and clean the pain from the broken and stained glass that was her mind and soul. Her laughter grew, bellowing down the halls of the floor, the empty production-less floor. It had all changed _so fast_. She had thought that change would be, should have been, for Night Vale. Not for Strex, not for Desert Bluffs, not for her. Changed should be _easy_ it should be something that made her smile because change is always good.

 

Why could she not stop the tears?

 

Maybe it wasn’t the change. Maybe it was sorrow for something else. Maybe she was crying and laughing that Kevin went to go and see Daniel. That they were together in some form with the Smiling God. That as they walked into that blinding, searing light they would probably hold hands as they walked forward.

 

She wanted to follow them, she wanted to follow Daniel; but what was _stopping_ her.

 

She had nothing, no job, no work, everything she had ever done, her _dreams_ all of it was gone, and her only friends both lost to time and life. It was all like wonderful sand clutched in her hand, only for a moment it had been so warm so delicate, she just didn’t notice how fast it had all been _slipping_ from her fingers. Maybe if she had noticed all the signs, maybe if she had taken charge and taken her rightful place before they had sent Daniel to Night Vale, then maybe at the end of it all she might still have someone around her that cared.

 

“Daniel…” Her voice was in shards, shaken and in bits and pieces. If he was here he would have known what to do. They had spent so many late nights, talking business and plans, though she had always presented the ideas if it hadn’t been for the times that Daniel helped her she wouldn’t have been able to make it all so efficient. He was always so efficient.

 

He was there for her in her darkest and lightest moments, always encouraging her to no longer be sad; that it wasn’t productive, that he believed in her. That if she was able to wipe away the tears she could be so much more productive than him, and it would cheer her up and she would move forward believing in the belief that Daniel had in her. That if she continued to walk forward, to be functioning and efficient, that she would be happy.

 

Maybe Night Vale was right. Maybe that stupid, ridiculous, pathetic radio show host they had was right.

 

It was as the sun was going down, the Light in Desert Bluffs dimming through the windows darker than usual, and her tears run dry that he entered.

 

He was walking from the elevator taking his time as he strode into the huge office, his golden wings shimmering in the unusually dark dusk of the city. She continued to look forward, numb, and not caring about the Angel.

 

She welcomed him, she welcomed the death she knew he would bring to her. She welcomed her paperless _firing_. Maybe then she can rest and get some peaceful sleep, the mandatory dreams of Strex and times that once were frozen in the last few seconds of her mind before slipping her soul away to the Smiling God.

 

“You know,” she could hear the tapping of his fingers on his phone, sending a text or something to someone, somewhere, that ultimately didn’t matter. “this whole building, it’s just, whatever.” Then the tapping stopped, and she knew what was next. She had done it so many times herself to so many others. She would not struggle, it would be painful yes, but she had no heart to try to get away from her fate, from her death, from her chance to finally see Daniel and Kevin one last time.

 

“But you?” He was taking too damn long with this, she didn’t need a damned speech. She didn’t need for him to try to make her feel better about what was to happen. _She needed this to happen, and she needed it now._

 

There was a light squishing of bare feet against the linoleum and blood covered floor. The steps came closer to her and slowly, carefully, dark skinned arms and a furry of wings awkwardly wrapped around her and lifted her body from the chair, her exhaustion and lack of will leaving her completely limp.

 

“Your not, you know, whatever. You matter sweet cheeks.”

 

She couldn’t remember what happened next, for as her skin touched the angel’s memories came flooding in through places she didn’t know were there. Or maybe they were planted there by the angel himself. It didn’t matter for the world fell away, and she was six.

 

She was six and she was looking in to the bright smiling faces of two people she called her _parents_. The walls and rooms were dry and undecorated as they should normally be. But that did not matter, it did not matter that there was no blood, no bodies, no organs decorating the house or walls. No, she lingered on the thought or memory of their faces, so happy so _bright_. So much like Daniel’s smile, filled with so much love.


End file.
